E! Unexpected
by harrimaniac27
Summary: While Mike helps Marco deal with a loss in his family, Mike has to deal with his own problem: the fact that he's started to fall for his best friend. -SLASH- (Constructive criticism only, please.) Rated M for adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

EMERGENCY!- UNEXPECTED

Written by: George Glisson

_Emergency! And all of its characters belong to Mark VII and universal pictures. No copyright infringement intended._

A/N: I think I may be the only person in the whole world who ships Mike and Marco because there seems to be no fanfiction about them, so I'm fixing that. So, maybe try it on and see if it works? I'm interested to know if you guys think I at least made it believable. (Also ignore my Spanish...it's not my first language, so it kinda sucks and I had to use google translator for the longer sentences. D: )

Tissue warning for chapter 1, it's kinda emotional.

-%-ONE-%-

Let me start off by saying that I never expected any of this...I never thought I'd have the courage to say...well, actually, let me go back to the beginning so you know the whole story.

It all started one slow morning at the station.

Marco and Chet were polishing the engine before B shift got there. I was just finishing up cleaning the day room, Johnny and Roy were out on a run, and Cap was catching up on some paperwork.

I heard the phone ring, and Cap walked out of his office to tell Marco that he had a phone call...I couldn't hear who from, but I remember thinking it was odd that Marco would want to take it in the dorm.

Anyway, about 15 minutes passed, and Marco walked into the day room looking really upset.

"What's wrong?" I asked him. He actually looked so upset that it worried me.

I remember him trying to smile, trying to pretend like nothing had happened.

"Nothing, Mike. I'm alright," He lied. But anyone could see the pain in his eyes.

I decided to stay quiet, because I wasn't really sure what to do.

He got a glass of water and sat on the couch to drink it.

I had been sweeping the floor, so I put the broom away and went to sit next to Marco on the couch as I sometimes did. Silently; just to keep him company.

He looked at me, but I pretended I was just sitting down to read a magazine because I was done with the day room.

I remember him parting his lips a little, like he was about to say something, so I looked up at him, but I guess he decided against it, because he closed his mouth.

"Are you sure everything's alright?" I asked him cautiously. I didn't want to upset him even more.

He hesitated, looking down at the floor. "Yeah," he said. "Everything's...perfect."

I knew he was lying; I could hear it in his voice, the way he strained to say the words like he didn't want to lie, but had to. I wanted to help, but I didn't know how to approach the issue.

I know Marco fairly well. We go out for a beer together every once in a while, and through that, we learned that we both really like soccer. Now, we'll meet at his place to watch a match or two. But we keep our distance even then.

I'm a private person, so I tend to keep to myself, but Marco knows more about me than any of the other guys at the station, just because of the time we spend together outside of work...And I'll bet I know more about Marco than most people do, for that very same reason. At least, I know what kinds of beer he prefers, and which soccer teams we agree on an. Which ones we don't...

But at that point, I really didn't know what was bothering him, so I didn't know how to help him.

So I sat there quietly, flipping through the pages of the magazine, not really paying attention to them. I was paying more attention to Marco as he sat and drank his water. The longer he sat there, the more fidgety he became. I tried not to react to him; to just be there in case he decided to open up. It was harder than I'd anticipated, but I think I did a pretty good job, because he finally mumbled my name.

When I looked at him, he looked like he was about to cry. My first impulse was to reach out to him, but I refrained. I set the magazine down and leaned back into the couch.

"What's wrong, Marco?" I asked again, my voice as soft as I could make it.

"It's my father," he said, so softly I could barely hear him. "He's very sick. He's not expected to make it through the night."

My heart sank. Now it made sense. I still wanted to reach out to him, but for some reason, I felt like he wouldn't appreciate it, so I didn't. Instead, I said, "Marco...I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

A single tear rolled down his cheek. "I...don't know," he said, somehow keeping his voice steady. "Just...Would you just be there for me in case-" his voice caught in his throat. I handed him a box of tissues.

"Of course," I said, letting him know he didn't have to say any more. I cautiously put a hand on his shoulder, because I wanted him to know that I was there for him...but I didn't quite know how to say it.

"Which hospital?" I asked quietly.

"Rampart," Marco almost whispered.

At least his father was in good hands.

Marco wiped his tears away with the tissue I'd handed him and put the box back where it had been on the table next to the couch. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat and said, "Thanks, Mike," before walking back out to help Chet finish with the engine.

I admired him for his strength. I hadn't been so composed when my father had fallen ill...I'd actually been quite a mess. Perhaps he was too, but if that was true, he was better able to hide it than I had been.

Since I was done with the day room, I got up and went into the apparatus bay to help him and Chet with the engine.

The Cap came in and walked over to Marco to ask him what the call had been about. I could tell that Marco didn't want to worry about it any more than he was at the moment, because he smiled and said, "Nothing Cap, I'm alright." Just what he'd tried on me. I knew the Cap could see right through it too, but he decided not to press the matter.

"Alright," he said, shifting his attention from Marco to the Engine. He pointed to a spot that Chet hadn't gotten yet. "Finish this part and you guys can go home, ok? Carter and Hendrix just pulled up."

"Sounds like a plan, Cap," said Chet. Marco and I just nodded somberly. I knew he could tell something was up, because he gave us both a concerned look before deciding to let it go and walk away.

After we'd finished the Engine, I offered to drive Marco over to Rampart so we could go see his father. He nodded and followed me out to my car and we drove over there in silence.

-%-

When we got there, we learned from the receptionist that he was in the ICU, so we walked up there and found his room.

Marco's whole family seemed to be crammed into that little room, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents...from both sides of the family. Some were by the bed, praying, some were crying by the window, some were barely old enough to know what was going on. Even though I could understand most of the Spanish I heard, having grown up in East LA, I still felt out of place; like I was intruding, so I stood next to the door.

"Marco!" Marco's mother embraced him the moment she saw him, crying into his shoulder. "¡Dígale a su papa que dejara de hablar loco así! (Tell your father to stop talking crazy.)"

Suddenly, we all heard Marco's father call his name, and it became eerily quiet in the room. Marco slowly let go of his mother, who covered her face with her hands. Marco sent me a little look as he walked over to his father's bedside, and my legs carried me over to him, as if it were his idea.

"Si, Papa? (Yes, dad?)" Marco said when we'd gotten to the bedside, his voice shaking a little.

"Marco," his father said, his voice rough and cracking from the sickness. He looked up at his son with love in his eyes, not at all masked by the beeping equipment all around him. "Que pasó, Marco? Sonríer! No te preocupes por mí. Ser feliz. (What's wrong, Marco? Smile! Don't worry about me. You should be happy.)"

He looked at me, then back at Marco. "Tiene una vida que vivir. Prométeme que te quedarás feliz. (You have a life to live. Promise me you'll stay happy.)"

Marco's tears silently rolled down his cheeks, but his voice was steady. "Prometo. (I promise.)" His strength was inspiring.

Marco's father smiled and reached up for Marco's shoulder. He looked pleased with his son. Then he looked at me, "What a son I have, eh? I knew I could count on him to stay strong. Take care of him for me."

I smiled back at him and nodded, trying not to let myself tear up. He looked back at Marco, that pride never leaving the twinkle in his eye.

"Hasta luego, Marco. Mi tiempo ha llegado. Estoy orgulloso de ti, Marco. Muy orgulloso. (I'll see you later/goodbye, Marco. My time has come. I'm proud of you, Marco. Very proud.)"

"Papa..." Marco choked, his strength beginning to crumble. "No hables así...(Dad...Don't talk like that.)"

But Marco's father's eyes had closed, and on his last breath, I heard him say, "Muy...orgulloso. (So...proud.)"

-%-

We drove back to the station so Marco could get his car. It was a silent drive. I was lost in my own thoughts. I knew Marco pretty well by then, but we'd kept just enough distance that I'd had no idea about his father. In fact, I noticed that he rarely talked about his parents to anyone.

I pulled into the station parking lot and parked right next to his car. We had been silent for so long that I was startled when I heard a sob from the direction of the passengers seat. I looked at him, concerned. He looked like he'd been silently crying for a while.

I put a hand on his shoulder. I knew exactly how he felt. When my father died, I felt like my life was over. All I had wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die because the crying never seemed to end...I could be fine one moment, and then something would remind me of him...a smell, a colour, a place, a taste, a feeling, you name it. Something would remind me that I'd never see him again...and the next minute, I'd be miserable. I hated seeing Marco going through what I had been through. What struck me as odd was that his father had looked at me...of all people...and asked me to take care of him. But it really didn't matter so much _why_, so I resolved then and there that I'd help him get through it any way I could.

-%-

I ended up following Marco to his apartment because he asked me to come watch a soccer match with him. I could tell he was looking for anything that would get his mind off his father...just as I had.

I made him sit on the couch and got him a beer. One of his cats rubbed up against him and he ran a hand down its back as he turned on his TV and flipped through until he found the sports channel.

We watched about fifteen minutes of a soccer match, and just when the other team was about to make a goal, Marco turned off the TV.

His eyes were closed and his chin was quivering.

Just when I was about to ask him if he was alright, he said, "We used to watch matches together. Just the two of us. Mama didn't really care for it." A tear spilled out from under his eyelid. "Our team lost the last time we watched a match together."

I couldn't say anything...it's not that I shouldn't have, it's just that I didn't know what to say.

"That's about the time he started showing the symptoms," Marco continued.

"We'd...been expecting it for a while, now," he said softly. "I'd go visit him every saturday...I noticed that he'd been going downhill for months, but...I guess none of us wanted to admit it. Especially him."

He didn't need to clarify who he was talking about. I knew.

I didn't say anything; just nodded sadly.

Marco let out a shaky laugh. "He would smile at me and say, 'Está bien, Marco. Sentio feroz como un león.'" He shook his head. "I feel...fierce as a...lion..." he added, trailing off. He took a shaky breath and shut his eyes, trying to stop the tears from flowing. This time, I couldn't help it. I wrapped my arms around him. To my surprise, he didn't pull away. He held onto me, and I let him cry into my shoulder for a while...and as he did it, I couldn't help but feel like he needed me.

-%-

I went home that night wondering if Marco would be ok. I knew how miserable I was when my father had died...I would be fine for a while when people were around, even if they were just in the next room. But if I tried to think about him for even just a few minutes, I would be a mess again, and having no one to talk to was especially hard. Before I left, I told Marco that if he needed anything, he could call me, no matter what time it was. He'd just nodded and thanked me in Spanish, then said it in English. I told him I meant it, _any _time at all. Even if it was after midnight. He nodded and thanked me again, then I went home.

-%-

I'm a morning person, so I usually wake up pretty early. I had just gotten up and was about to do my morning stretches when the phone rang. I ran to get it and it was Marco.

"Hey..." he said distantly. I could tell he was tired, but it sounded like he hadn't slept at all. I'd figured he wouldn't be able to fall asleep...I hadn't been able to sleep very well after my father had died either.

"Hey, Marco. What's up? Are you alright?"

"I can't sleep," he said. "I know this sounds crazy...but...it's too quiet here."

"No," I told him." It's not crazy at all, Marco, I know the feeling. Like your life is empty somehow. Even though you live alone."

He was quiet for a second. "Yeah," he agreed. "That's it exactly."

"Are you doing ok?" I asked him.

"I guess," he said. "Just feeling pretty lonely."

"Do you need some company?" I asked him. "I can be there in ten minutes."

He must have paused to look at his clock.

"It's four in the morning, Mike, are you sure?" he asked.

"Marco, you had no problem calling me at this hour because you knew I'd be up. Besides, traffic won't be an issue, and I want to help in any way I can."

He was quiet for a while, then finally mumbled an "Alright, if you want to..." but I could tell that he wanted me there. He really must have been lonely to reach out to me at four in the morning.

"I'll see you in ten, ok?" I said.

He paused for a moment. "Thank you, Mike," he said.

I stopped to smile. One of the things I like about Marco is that he's always there when you need him. The funny thing is, when it comes to him needing others, he doesn't know how to take it. Still, it was nice to know that he really did want me there. After all, I had a promise to keep to his dad...and maybe to myself.

-%-

I jumped into some clothes and was in my car and on my way in less than five minutes. It took a little longer than five minutes for me to get to his house, but I finally pulled into the parking lot and hopped out of my car. He opened his front door before I'd even gotten up the stairs . When I'd gotten closer I could tell he'd been crying.

"Hey..." he said when I'd gotten up the stairs.

"Hey, Marco," I replied. He stood back to invite me in, and I walked past him into the apartment. He shut the door and I followed him into the living room. When he sat down, he propped his elbows on his knees and rubbed his hands over his face. He looked so tense...and I suddenly felt like I needed to let him know I was there for him. I slowly sat next to him on the couch, cautiously putting a hand on his shoulder. He _was_ tense. His shoulder muscles were really tight.

"How are you doing?" I asked softly, absent-mindedly rubbing his shoulders a little. I stopped after I'd realised it.

He shook his head and took a couple of shaky breaths. He was quiet for a while, and I could tell he was crying. I put an arm around him...I hated to see him cry.

"I miss him..." he said after a while, which brought on a whole new wave of tears.

"I know, Marco," I whispered. I put my other arm around him and we sat like that for a while while he cried.

Even though the sound of him crying ripped my heart right out of my chest, I knew he needed it, so I let him just cry it out. He had every right. Staying so calm and collected at the station after getting a phone call telling him to come say goodbye to his father would've been hard for anyone. In fact, I knew as I looked down at him, his shoulders shaking, hearing his painful sobbing sounds, I wouldn't have been able to do it.

When he'd calmed down a bit, he told me some stories about his father. He told me about the first time they'd gone fishing together...the time his father had taught him how to shave, and how to tie a tie...

He told me about things they'd done together as long as he could remember...watching soccer...doing tin-work like his grandfather had...making chile, tortillas and tamales, and cookies if they were lucky.

He told me how his father had taught him how to cook and that it was one of his favourite things to do with him.

He told stories until the sun was up, and I laughed with him when he told a funny story and comforted him when he cried.

-%-

He finally dozed off at around 0640. I put a blanket over him and got up to make a pot of coffee.

I drank a cup, did my morning stretches, pet his cats and started to read a book while he slept. He needed the sleep.

Maybe I should have left, but I didn't want him to wake up to an empty house.

It's odd, because...I realised that, even though I was trying really hard to read the book...I couldn't focus on the words. I kept looking at him, lying there on the couch...he looked so peaceful...and after the amount of emotion he'd felt in the past few hours, I knew it was good for him.

...but there was something else I couldn't figure out. Why was he turning to me? Why, after the loss of his father, wasn't he spending more time with his family? And why had his father asked _me _to take care of him? Why not his mother? I put the book down and watched his chest rise and fall. Maybe there was something else going on that I couldn't see.

-%-

I almost didn't hear him when he woke up because I'd dozed off, too, a few times. It was 0900 before I was fully aware again and I suddenly noticed his deep brown eyes staring back at me.

"Oh, g'morning," I said groggily. I saw him smile at me before I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

"How did you sleep?" I asked as I got up and stretched out my legs.

"I slept," he said. "That's enough for me."

I smiled and walked into the kitchen to warm the coffee I'd made a while ago. I knew it'd be bitter, but...I don't like to waste coffee.

"Do you want me to make you some breakfast?" I asked. He didn't respond.

When I glanced back at him, he was sitting in his living room, staring at the carpet like he was thinking really hard about something.

"Marco?" Maybe he hadn't heard me.

He finally looked up at me. "I'm sorry, what?" he said.

"Do you want me to make you some breakfast?" I repeated, smiling back at him.

"Oh," he shook his head at me. "You don't have to do that for me, Mike, you've already done so much for me—"

"No, I want to!" I assured him. "After all, I know what you're going through."

I got out a pan, set it on the stove, and put a pat of butter in it to melt. I didn't hear him come into the kitchen, so I was a bit startled when his voice came from behind me.

"Thank you, Mike. I really appreciate what you're doing for me."

He said it soft and low, and a wonderful feeling wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I didn't know what it was about his voice...but, whatever it was, it was strong enough to make me smile...

But...it was more than that. I felt happy...no, that wasn't the right word. I felt better than happy. "Warm and fuzzy" just doesn't do it justice either. It was like...the best feeling I'd ever felt in my life. I couldn't stop smiling as I cracked four eggs into a bowl.

"Any time, Marco," I said. I didn't know what else to say, I was too distracted by this new feeling.

I was almost perplexed by it...I wanted to figure out why I was feeling it, but at the same time, I didn't...as if doing so would ruin the feeling.

I glanced at him and caught him smiling back at me, mirroring my own expression...and I suddenly felt that I'd finally gotten to know him.

-%-

"¡Ay! ¿Que fue eso? What was he thinking?"

"This goalie's terrible!" I agreed.

Marco sighed and shook his head, getting up. "I'm getting another beer. You want one?"

I nodded yes and grabbed another handful of peanuts. "Please."

Marco nodded and walked over to his refrigerator. He brought back two cans of Michelob and popped the lids, handing me the one that was in his left hand.

"Thank you," I said, glancing up just in time to see our goalie miss another ball.

Both Marco and I groaned.

"Ten to seven, and they have the better goalie," Marco said shaking his head. "Ridiculous..." He said, turning to ignore the TV Set. "I'm starting to get hungry. You want to get a pizza?"

I smiled. "Sure!"

"What do we want to get on it?"

I think we watched more games and ate more pizza in those three days than I had ever seen in a month! At least that's how it seemed. But I knew I was helping Marco fill a void in his life, and I knew he needed the support...I just hoped I was giving him everything that I hadn't had.

It had been three days since the morning that had changed Marco's life forever. He'd been doing well, but I knew he was hiding his pain, just as I had. His life had just been flipped around, and balancing that was going to be hard. I was hoping that going to work tomorrow would help everything return to at least some semblance of 'normal' for Marco.

-%-

"Oh...you're cheating or something!"

"No I'm not! Look: gin! Read 'em and weep!"

I laid my cards out on the coffee table for him to see.

"¡Ay!" Marco said, putting his cards down. "Ok, you win! Again!" He smiled and shook his head. "I was never good at this game anyway...but for some reason...I always beat Papa..."

I saw his face darken a bit. He smiled a sad smile and sniffed. "You know, I think he used to let me win. I never lost to him once."

I nodded and looked at him. It...hurt me to see him in so much pain...but I didn't know what to say. Nothing I could think of sounded right, so I just nodded again, standing and going to sit next to him.

He looked back at me...I mean, really looked. He had an intense gaze, like he was staring into my soul. He looked at me so long, I was tempted to look away. I didn't know why, but I actually started to feel myself blush.

He finally looked down and said, "Thank you for being here, Mike. You're a good listener...and I appreciate your company."

I smiled at him. _You're welcome..._

I just couldn't say it out loud, but...I felt it with my whole being...and I think he felt it too, because the next thing I knew, he had wrapped his arms around me, and we just sat there, hugging. I'd never felt more right in my whole life...being there for my friend...letting him know he was not alone...and for some reason, I didn't want to let go.

-%-

I finally did let go...I said goodbye and left his house at around 2230. I hoped he would sleep alright that night...but I knew it would be hard for me to.

My mind was going a mile a minute by the time I got back to my car.

I didn't want to stop hugging him. I hadn't wanted to say goodbye. I didn't want to leave...

I wanted to stay there; I wanted to make sure he slept well, I wanted to make him breakfast in the morning...ask him how he'd slept...

I wanted to be right there with him when we got to work that morning...

When it got right down to it, I guessed I wanted to spend more time with him. Even though we'd just spent four days off together...It just didn't seem like enough. I just felt so inadequate...was I living up to his father's wishes?

I sighed and drove home. I was worrying too much. I had to keep my head on straight, so I took a sleeping pill and went to bed, but I didn't dream that night.

My house seemed strangely empty when I went to make the coffee in the morning. I stretched, got dressed, and left early. I guess I had been spending so much time with Marco, I forgot what it was like to live alone...but how could I forget that in just four days? It seemed a little absurd.

Nonetheless, I couldn't deny that...it was strange not having anyone in the house with me.


	2. Chapter 2

EMERGENCY!- UNEXPECTED

Written by: George Glisson

_Emergency! And all of its characters belong to Mark VII and universal pictures. No copyright infringement intended._

-%-TWO-%-

"Hey, Mike...how's Marco doing?"

The cap caught me as I was coming in and herded me into his office.

"I think he's doing ok, Cap, I was with him all weekend."

The cap nodded. "He seemed upset about something last shift, was it about his brother's call?"

I nodded slowly. The cap nodded too.

"I figured it was pretty bad, that's why I didn't ask him about it. I didn't want to make it worse. Is he...alright? What happened?"

"Cap..." I started...but I wasn't sure if I should say anything about it. I finally decided that the cap should know because...he has a right to know what's going on with his men, and I figured Marco wouldn't mind him knowing. "His father has been really sick for a while, and...died last Thursday."

"Ohh...I'm sorry to hear that..." He looked down for a moment, then looked back up at me. "Is he alright? Was four days off enough?"

"I think so, Cap. All he wants to do is to get his mind off of it. I think that it would be best if we just let his life get back to normal, because the last thing he wants is a reminder."

The cap nodded. "Ok. Then...I didn't hear it from you."

"Thanks, Cap," I said.

He nodded. "Well, let's get back to normal then, shall we?" he said, opening his door and gesturing towards the day room. I smiled and went in there to make the coffee.

It could have been that the morning was slow, or maybe that it felt slow to me. I caught myself glancing at the door every minute or so, wondering when Marco would get there. I wanted to see him. I wondered...if four days off really was enough. For me, when my father had passed, any time I had alone to think was torture, so I read books, or listened to music...I did something to escape.

I wondered if I'd helped Marco to escape.

I made the coffee a little slower than usual, thinking about it all. I was so lost in thought, I didn't even hear Roy come into the day room until he talked to me.

"Good morning, Mike," he said, coming up to me. "Hey, are you alright? You seem a little...caught up. Something on your mind?"

I was surprised, because, even though Roy and I are friends, we don't really talk much. I must have really looked concerning.

"Yeah..." I said. "But it's probably nothing."

Roy nodded, getting a cup and setting it down by the stove. He leaned back against the counter and crossed his legs. "Anything you want to talk about? I uh...Johnny and I saw you and Marco drive away on Thursday, and Marco looked really upset."

I nodded. "Yeah...he...had a death in the family," I said, and left it at that.

Roy nodded again, looking down. "Sorry to hear that." He looked up at me. "You...consoled him?"

I nodded. Yeah, that seemed like a correct statement.

"How're you holding up?"

I looked at him, unsure what he meant by it. He looked back at me, expecting an answer. I furrowed my brows.

"I guess...I'm ok? I...maybe It affected me a little, but I just tried to be there for him."

"But you're worrying about him, aren't you?"

Roy is a perceptive guy. I didn't know 'till then just _how_ perceptive.

"Yeah...I guess I am."

Roy nodded again. "I know how you feel. I worry about Johnny all the time."

I was just about to say something else when Chet walked into the room and looked at Roy.

"Hey, Roy? Where's Gage?"

"Do I look like his zookeeper?" Roy said, pouring some of the freshly brewed coffee into his cup. I smiled, only just realising how much Roy hid the fact that he really cared about Johnny.

Chet smiled a little at Roy's comment and looked out the door. "Never mind, I'll find him myself." He left the day room with a look in his eye that made me and Roy exchange glances.

"You know how I said I worry about Johnny all the time?" Roy asked.

I nodded.

"This is one of those times." He started walking towards the door. Right before he left, he looked back at me and said, "Keep your head up."

I smiled at him and poured myself a cup of coffee. It was half an hour 'till roll-call, so I took a breath and walked over to the couch to sit down. While I sat there, I watched the cap come in and get himself a cup of coffee before walking back to his office, and a few moments later, Johnny walked into the room dripping wet with what looked like bits of water balloon in his hair. He poured himself a cup of coffee, mumbling something about "way too early for this" and walking out of the room, presumably to change into his uniform. A few moments after that, Chet came in for a cup of coffee with a smug look on his face.

I smiled a little. Everything did seem to be getting back to normal...except for one little thing. I was still worried about Marco, and it was almost physically painful to sit there wondering if he was alright, if four days really was enough, and...if I had done enough. That was my real worry. Had I done enough? Did he still need more?

Since his father had asked me to look after him, I felt solely responsible for anything more that he needed, because he had asked me, of all people. I still wondered why...Marco and I didn't even know each other all that well...but...out of all the people at the station, he knew me the best. Maybe he had talked about me at home. The facts of the matter were that Marco had turned to me for comfort and his father had explicitly asked me to take care of him. Maybe it was just in my nature, but those facts made me feel responsible for him.

But...was I worrying too hard? Why wasn't he spending time with his family? What could I give him that they couldn't? What did his father see in me?

I sighed and finished my coffee, getting up and washing out my mug. I decided I must be worrying too hard, and that I would leave Marco alone that day unless he needed something from me.

That was easier said than done.

I couldn't help myself. The moment I saw him, I walked up to him.

"Good morning, Marco, how'd you sleep?"

He smiled at me and said, "Well. Thanks, Mike. How 'bout you?"

I was never good at small talk, but it seemed that much harder this morning. My brain didn't seem to want to make coherent sentences. "I...well, I...slept. I...I had to take some sleeping pills to fall asleep, so..." I shook my head. Nope.

"Oh, yeah..." Marco said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "But you feel rested though, right?"

I nodded, "Yes."

Marco smiled and nodded too. "Good."

When we walked into the day room, he got a cup of coffee and we sat at the table. I couldn't tell you why, but I felt happy. Maybe it was because I didn't have to worry anymore, because Marco was sitting right across from me...but there seemed to be more to it. I was so glad to see him. It seemed like it had been weeks since I'd seen him last...but I knew that was crazy.

We didn't say much. I just sat there with him as he sipped his coffee before roll-call, content in his presence.

I watched him, too. I noticed how he held his cup with his pinkie curled under, and how he closed his eyes every time he took a slow sip.

I'll admit, I was mesmerised. I never watched him like that before, so I never noticed how interesting he was. I guess I was a little too mesmerised, because I was startled when the call alarm went off.

"SQUAD 51, DIFFICULTY BREATHING. 1929 WESTERN AVENUE. 1-9-2-9 WESTERN AVENUE. CROSS STREET VIDA, TIME OUT, 7:12."

For some reason, it sounded louder to me than usual. I heard the cap answer the call, and Marco and I sat back down as the squad pulled out of the station.

-%-

When the squad came back, we had roll-call. Cap made some announcements and began to assign us our chores.

"...Chet, you and DeSoto take care of the dorms, and Mike, I want you and Marco on the apparatus and the locker room. Any questions?"

"Yeah," Chet piped up. "Who's cooking today?"

"I am," Cap said. "Now let's get to it!"

As if it were obeying his command, the call alarm went off again right then.

"Station 51, child stuck in tree; at the park. 1012 Breemot Avenue. 1-0-1-2 Breemot Avenue. Cross street Byrd, time out 9:20."

We all piled into our vehicles and I pulled out into the rain after the squad.

When we arrived at the park, it was hard to miss which tree the child had gotten stuck in. It was a tall oak tree, and there was a little crowd of people under it, looking up from under their umbrellas and pointing. I parked the engine near the tree and hopped out, following the cap over to the crowd of people.

It had been raining all night and into the morning, so it was really muddy. We squished through it up to the child's mother and got the story from her.

"Jimmy's only nine years old," she was saying. "He went up there to get Alvin—he's our cat—and now he can't get down. Oh, please, do something!"

"Marco, get the ladder, will you? Careful, this mud's slippery. Johnny, how do you feel about going up there to get him? Need a belt?"

"I should be alright, Cap," Johnny said, walking up to the base of the tree. He slid a little on some of the mud and looked back at the cap. "Boy, you weren't kidding! This mud is real slippery..."

As if on cue, as Marco was walking back with the ladder, he slipped and fell face first right into a big mud-puddle. Roy and I rushed over to him, being careful not to slip ourselves, and pulled him up.

"Johnny, maybe we shouldn't use this ladder. I don't know if we're gonna be able to keep it from slidin' in this mud!" Roy said. "D'you think you can climb the tree without it?"

Johnny laughed a little bit and nodded. "Yeah, I think so...you ok, Marco?"

"Yeah, just a little dirty, that's all..." Marco called back, wiping some of the mud off his face.

I helped him wipe off as much of the mud as I could as Johnny climbed the tree and brought down the little boy. Some woman brought Marco a towel. Johnny went back up the tree for the cat, and the little boy and his mother thanked him.

As we were walking away, Chet was teasing Marco about falling in the mud, so Johnny "accidentally" tripped him and made _him_ fall on his _butt_ in the mud. We all laughed...until we saw the look on the cap's face.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't see that, because I know what he did to you this morning," the Cap said to Johnny, "but you're cleaning up his seat on the engine when we get back."

Johnny hung his head, but as we were pulling away, I heard Johnny say to Roy, "It was worth it."

-%-

When we got back to the station, the cap made Johnny start on Chet's seat. Then, he turned to Marco.

"Hey, Marco, why don't you go take a shower, huh?" he suggested.

"Thanks, Cap," Marco said, walking into the locker room. I grabbed a broom and followed him, only because I had to sweep the floor in there anyway.

"Do you need a bag for your dirty uniform?" I asked him as he took off his mud-spattered turnout.

"Yeah, thanks, that would help a lot," Marco said, untucking his shirt.

I went to get him a bag.

I don't know what I was expecting, but I was taken off-guard by what I saw when I came back into the room.

Marco was bent over the sink, rinsing some of the mud off his face...that, I expected. But...I stopped short, spellbound as I watched his strong shoulder muscles flex and relax beneath his silky dark brown skin as he splashed water on his face. There was also some water slowly dripping down his arms and back that had splashed over when he'd wet his face. It seemed like I was watching it in slow motion. My eyebrows raised and my mouth fell open a little bit. I couldn't stop myself from thinking it: Marco...was sexy.

I imagined running my hand down his arm, feeling the tight ripple of his muscles under my fingertips—

Heat rushed to my ears from embarrassment and I quickly looked down at the floor.

"Um, I'll leave the bag on the bench," I mumbled and walked right back out of the room, hearing him thank me as I left.

My heart was racing. What was wrong with me!? I'd seen Marco shirtless before and never had this reaction! What would his father have thought? I was supposed to be taking care of him, not ogling him!

_Ok, Michael, think rationally here_. I thought. _You spent the past four days at his house, comforting him and taking care of him...he just had a loss in his family. You feel responsible for him, and you want to take away his pain...This reaction is purely...sympathetic...it'll pass in a day or two..._

But no matter how much I tried to convince myself that that's all it was, I couldn't.

I should have seen the signs. The first morning I went to his house and made him breakfast, he had smiled at me, and I felt that warm and happy feeling...and when he'd looked at me so hard that night before I left his house, and I had blushed...and when we hugged, it felt so nice, I didn't want to let go...and now here I was in denial about the fact that...I was really attracted to my best friend...my best _male _friend.

I had promised myself this wasn't going to happen...but you can't really promise things to yourself that are out of your control.

It felt too hot in the room. I was trying really hard to be mad at myself for having these feelings, but the only feeling I could feel was a mix between elation and confusion. So I stood there outside the locker room, holding the broom with a dumb look on my face, blushing like an idiot.

Johnny looked over at me and furrowed his brows. "Hey, Mike, you feeling ok? You're looking a little flushed."

I tried to respond verbally, but all I could manage was a nod yes and a thumbs up. Johnny looked back at me like he wasn't buying it, but he went back to cleaning the mud off of Chet's seat.

I needed time to think...but unfortunately, time was not on my side.

"Mike, could you sweep up all this dried mud, please? If there's still some wet stuff, just get the mop out of the closet," the Cap asked as he walked past me.

"Yeah, Cap, sorry..." I said, slowly regaining the ability to move and beginning to sweep the mud into a pile.

He looked a little confused as to why I'd apologised, but shrugged it off and walked into the day room.

I tried to think as I swept. Starting a relationship with Marco was out of the question. Not only was I sure that if he found out about my attraction, he would hate me for it, but I was worried what would happen if everyone else found out.

In my mind, there was only one possibility. I had to transfer out. I didn't want to leave, but I couldn't risk my friends finding out that I'd just fantasised about touching Marco. Just the thought of it made the heat rush back to my cheeks.

"Alright, seriously, Mike...are you alright?" Johnny had stopped cleaning Chet's seat again and was staring at me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I managed to say. I turned my back to him and kept sweeping.

The mud was still wet. I was going to need the mop pretty soon.

Inwardly, I sighed. How was I going to get myself out of this jam? There I was, feeling responsible for Marco and spending all this time worrying about him...only to find out that the reason I was so worried about him was because I thought he was drop-dead gorgeous! _Some friend I am_, I thought.

I knew I had to do something about it. Problem was, I didn't want to transfer out. I didn't want to walk away from the best friends I'd ever had. And beside that, I had a promise to keep. So, I talked myself into thinking that the best course of action was to remove myself from the situation. I resolved then and there to stop spending so much time with him. I decided that if the situation resolved itself, I would stay. But if it didn't...I would have to leave.

Funny. I actually found some consolation in my logical declaration as I began to mop the floor. I really believed I could act normally after having had such a strong sexual reaction to water dripping down Marco's beautiful bare muscular shoulders. But apparently, I don't know myself at all.

-%-

I'd just finished mopping when I heard the door to the locker room open. I looked up to see Marco walk out...no shirt on; chest glistening with water from the shower. He had his shirt draped over one of his arms...and he was walking right over to me. I turned bright red and looked down at the floor, pretending I wasn't finished mopping.

"Hey, Mike, if you're done in here, can I borrow that mop to clean up the dirt in the shower?"

I glanced up at him, relieved that he was finally putting his shirt back on, and nodded.

"Uh y-yeah, here, I'm...I-I'm done," I stuttered, handing him the mop. He gave me a concerned look.

"Mike, are you feeling alright? You look really flushed."

"I-I'm fine, I just...just need some air," I said, walking past him into the day room and out the back door.

This was my fault. My fault for getting too close to him. I'm very selective about who I get to know, or more accurately, I'm selective about who I get attached to...and Marco had slipped right through my defences. It had been a long time since I had been that strongly attracted to someone...and there I was falling for someone who was completely unattainable! Was I a complete idiot? I sure felt like one!

I walked over and leaned on my car. I had to calm down, or I was going to be found out for sure. My mother always said I worried too much, and right then, I knew she was right...but that couldn't stop me from worrying.

Marco and I had gotten to know each other very well over the past couple of days, and I had _somehow_ managed not to notice how incredibly attractive he was...but now? Now what?

Marco was probably going to expect that same relationship we'd been building over the past few days when we got off duty: he expected a friend who was willing to listen to him and be there for him, not someone who'd ogle him when he had no shirt on!

I sighed. Why should this be any different? Why shouldn't I be able to let it continue the way it had been? Because I was embarrassed about a little passing fancy I had? Ridiculous! I stood up straight. Damned if I was going to let that little thought ruin the best friendship I'd had since I was eleven! I straightened my shirt and marched back into the building, keeping my head up.

When I'd opened the door, the Cap looked up at me.

"You ok, Stoker? You looked like kinda red a minute ago."

"I don't know what it was, Cap," I lied. "But I'm fine now."

The Cap nodded slowly."Well, if it comes back, just let Roy or John take a look at you, alright?"

I nodded and headed back to the locker room, bracing myself to interact with Marco.

Maybe it was fortune smiling down on me, but just as I reached for the door handle, the call alarm went off.

"Engine 51, garbage fire, in danger of spreading. Alley between 2nd and 3rd streets. Alley between 2nd and 3rd. Time out, 11:33."

I silently gave thanks that I could bury myself in my work for a while as I ran to the driver's seat of the engine and pulled on my turnout.

-%-

It turned out that the fire had spread to the apartment building behind the dumpster the fire had started in. We called in second and third assignments when we got there, and we eventually had to call the squad in, too. The fire lasted for four hours, and by the time we got back, we were all exhausted. Chet, Marco and I commandeered the couch and chairs in the day room while the cap drug himself over to the counter and started on lunch. Johnny and Roy were still at the hospital following up on some patients.

"You know, I could use a little help over here..." the captain said, looking back at us.

Chet was lying prone on the couch and didn't respond. Marco shook his head.

"Stoker?" Cap asked. I got up and walked over to him, helping him chop the celery for the chicken salad he was making.

"Mike, warm the bread in the oven a little bit, would you, pal?" Cap asked after a while. I finished chopping the celery stalk I was on and got the bread out of the bread box, taking 16 slices and putting them in the stove to warm.

Johnny and Roy got back right when it was time to eat. I was the last one to the table, and when I came over to sit down, I realised that I was sitting right next to Marco.

_No big deal_, I thought. _I can handle this._

"So who's your new flame, Johnny?" Chet was asking.

"None of your business, Kelly," Johnny snapped.

"Whoa...he's not bragging about her, fellas," Chet said to the rest of us. "I wonder why...Is she ugly, Johnny? Are you embarrassed to talk about her?"

"Would you just shut up, Kelly, and eat your food? What did I ever do to you that you feel the need to pick on me so hard today?"

"We'll, you've been actin' funny all day, I was just wondering if it had anything to do with that dame who's been calling you since this morning."

"That 'dame' just happens to be my sister-in-law, Chet. Didn't your mother ever teach you how to mind your own business?"

As usual, the cap, Marco, and I were playing spectator to Johnny and Chet's bickering, while Roy was ignoring them when he could and inserting his two cents every so often.

Marco must've gotten bored of watching, because he suddenly turned to me and said,

"Manchester's playing Vera Cruz on Wednesday. You want to come over to my place and watch?"

I nodded. I didn't respond verbally, partly because my mouth was full, and partly because I was afraid I'd stutter again.

"Good! The match starts at noon, so we can just head to my place after the shift." He smiled at me and continued to eat, and I was thankful he was looking at his sandwich and not me, because I practically melted right off of my chair. At least, that's how I felt on the inside. On the outside, I was working so hard to be stoic and unfeeling that I found myself staring down a little spot on the table. When I noticed, I stopped and just concentrated on eating.

Damn...this was hard work. I suddenly wondered how long I'd be able to keep this up before he caught onto the fact that every time I looked at him, I saw his beautiful, glistening chest in my mind's eye. I decided not to think about it just then and started to listen to Johnny and Chet again. Unfortunately, Marco had other plans.

"I hear it's gonna be a good game. Too bad we aren't rooting for the same team."

My heart sank as I read too far into what Marco was saying. I knew that he didn't mean it the way I took it, but...I figured the double entendre—no matter how unintentional—was accurate.

"Yeah," I said. _Too bad indeed._

The call alarm suddenly went off and called the squad out for a "difficulty breathing", ending Johnny and Chet's little bickering session. It was quiet for a second while we all ate, but Chet couldn't keep his mouth shut for too long.

"I swear, Johnny's got a new girl. I mean, he's been acting all absent-minded today...like there's someone he can't get out of his mind."

He wasn't the only one. I was just glad that nobody had seemed to catch on to me.

"Aw, Chet, leave him alone! So what if he has a new girl? Maybe she's something special if he's not bragging about her," Marco said.

"I don't know, Marco," Chet said. "Wouldn't you be bragging if you had something special with someone?"

I paid extra attention to Marco's answer here.

"Not unless I wanted to jinx it!" said Marco. "And it doesn't matter what kind of relationship I have with someone, I don't brag about it."

"Yeah, but Johnny's a bragger!"

"Maybe he thinks that bragging about this one would be immature," I said.

Chet gave me a look. "Johnny? He was born immature, and he'll be immature until the day he dies."

Cap shook his head. "No, Johnny can be quite mature at times."

"At times..." Chet repeated.

"Hear me out!" said the Cap. "I happen to believe that Johnny is quite capable of containing himself when the situation calls for it. Otherwise he'd have been out of this station a long time ago."

Chet wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, yeah..." he said.

The Cap shook his head again and leaned back in his chair. "Why are you such a gossiper, Chet? I thought gossip was supposed to be a gal thing."

Marco and I laughed, and Chet didn't seem too happy about it. "Well, I'm just trying to figure out what's going on around here, Cap!"

"Sure you are," the Cap said. Then his eyebrows knit, and he turned to me and said, "Speaking of figuring things out, Mike, did you ever figure out what happened to you earlier today?"

_Oh no. _"No, Cap, I didn't," I lied. "But it hasn't come back at all."

"What?" Marco looked at me, concerned. "Are you talking about earlier today when you needed to step out for fresh air?"

I reluctantly nodded.

"You're feeling better now, though, right?" Macro asked.

_Nope. Absolutely not, you sexy son of a gun_. "Yes, I'm fine now, thanks. Like I said, it hasn't come back." _Yet._

His sincere look of concern was effortlessly melting the coating of ice with which I was desperately trying to protect my heart, so I looked down at my half-eaten sandwich.

I would be glad when lunch was over, so I could get back to my chores.

Wishful thinking.

"Are you ok, Mike?" Marco asked. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt him touch my arm, but I think I hid it well...I think.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Really," I said, smiling to add some credibility to my lie.

I saw a look of relief come across his face that made my heart want to sing. I smiled wider and went back to eating my food.

Whew, I still hope he didn't notice how dopey I thought that smile looked.

-%-

I managed to stay cool for the rest of lunch. We were done by the time Johnny and Roy got back. While they sat down and ate the sandwiches I'd put in the refrigerator for them, Chet started on the dishes, and the Cap asked Marco and I to go polish the engine.

_What are you trying to do, kill me?_ I thought as I grabbed a rag and a tin of polish.

Marco followed suit and then started on the back of the engine. I started on the front and tried to do the exact opposite of what Marco did so that the engine was between us at all times.

Unfortunately, when we got to the part where we cleaned the windows, I had to stare down at him the whole time. I could still imagine his thick, strong shoulder muscles moving under his blue shirt...but I tried not to think about it.

We worked in silence for the most part, until Marco slowed what he was doing and stopped polishing.

"Mike," he began. "How old were you when..." he cleared his throat. "When your father passed away?"

"I..." I was surprised by the question. "I was a senior in high school," I said. "About 18."

Marco nodded and slowly started to polish again. "It must have been harder on you...being so young."

I stopped polishing. "Marco...Losing a parent is always hard. No matter how old you are."

Marco stopped polishing again and a tear fell from his eye. He quickly wiped it away and started polishing again. "Sorry," he said.

I just looked at him for a while. He made my heart hurt. I just wished there was something I could do to take all his pain away.

"No, don't be sorry, Marco," I said.

He stopped polishing and looked back up at me.

"It's ok to mourn. Keeping your feelings bottled up won't do you any good."

He looked down and nodded. I wished I could take my own advice...but the risks outweighed the benefits. My feelings would have to remain bottled up if I wanted to survive, but...he needed to feel his.

He took a shaky breath and continued polishing. "It's easier when you don't think about it," he said.

I nodded. "Yeah, it is. All you want is for things to get back to normal...and then you realise...life will never be the same as it was...that normal's just...different now." I felt myself tearing up too, so I shut my mouth and just started polishing again. Marco had stopped again, and was nodding his head in agreement, a few tears spilling from his eyes. He shut them really fast and wiped away the tears before getting back to his polishing.

"I'll mourn later."

-%-

We were silent again until the job was done.

I told him it looked nice and we both walked into the day room to sit on the couch. He sat at one end and I sat at the other.

I didn't realise how tired I was until I'd sat for a while. And I didn't realise until I glanced over that Marco had scooted a lot closer to me to make room for the captain. He seemed comfortable enough sitting there, because he didn't move when the cap got up to answer a phone call. We were done with our chores, so we had some time to kill.

"Mike?" he asked suddenly.

"Hmm?" I replied.

"Did you have a girlfriend back then? You know...when your father passed away."

"Nope," I said.

"Oh," Marco said. "I was hoping maybe you knew if...having someone you can share things with helps..."

"It does...but...that person doesn't need to be a girlfriend, " I said. "My uncle helped me through a lot of my dad's death."

Marco nodded. "Did you wish you had someone you could be...affectionate with, though?"

_Oh, you mean 'affectionate'?_ "Yeah..." I admitted. "It would have been nice."

Marco nodded again. I suddenly wondered if he knew about my feelings and was just toying with me...but Marco's not really that kind of a guy.

Still...he looked at me for a while, like he was trying to figure something out. I was really worried now that he was catching on. He furrowed his brows a little before looking away. He glanced back at me again and rested his head on the back of the couch.

"Vera Cruz is a good team this season," he said. "You think Manchester is ready to take them?"

A little heat came to my cheeks. _Why'd you have to say 'take', Marco? _"Manchester can take everything Vera Cruz throws at them and still win," I said. Even if he didn't have any double-meaning in his words...I sure did.

He chuckled. "Maybe you're right about the first part, but I doubt they'll win."

"What makes you so sure?" I asked, enjoying the little bout of friendly competition that had broken out between us.

"Manchester's a good team, but Vera Cruz is more aggressive. They'll make that field theirs."

I was just about to come back with something when Johnny and Roy came into the room. Johnny walked to the refrigerator and got the milk out so he could pour himself a glass.

"Roy, what I don't think you realise is that—"

Roy held a hand up and gestured towards me and Marco. "Not now, Johnny. They don't need to listen to your rambling." He grabbed a cookie and started to walk back out of the room.

"My rambling?!" Johnny repeated, following Roy out the room. "I'm not rambling, Roy, this is important to me! If you would just—"

I couldn't make out what he was saying after he passed out of earshot. I shook my head, but milk sounded like a good idea, so I got up and got a glass.

I looked back at Marco as I was pouring. "You want one?" I asked.

Marco shrugged. "Sure," he said.

I smiled and brought him the cup I'd just poured, returning to the cabinet for another glass.

When I sat back on the couch, I noticed that Marco was watching me...and realised that he'd probably been watching me the whole time.

I tried to remain cool, but I felt myself starting to blush, so I tried to think about something else...but my thoughts just kept coming back to Marco's bare chest, glistening with water from his shower...

I glanced over at him. I felt like my thoughts were so loud, he could hear them...and now that he was looking at me like that, it wasn't helping me one bit.

"Uh, what's up?" I finally asked.

"Nothing, really," Marco said, looking away for a second.

But he looked back after a while.

I pretended not to notice and just slowly drank my milk. Truthfully, my thoughts were running so fast, they were crashing into each other, and I remember silently giving thanks that Marco was not a paramedic, because I didn't want him to notice how fast he was making my heart throb.

I started to breathe easy when he picked up a magazine and began to read it.

Suddenly, however, as he was trying to turn the page with one hand and hold his milk with the other, he lost grip of the magazine and it fell to the floor. He sighed and put his milk down, bending over to get the magazine, and as he did so, I felt his knee touch mine. I tried to remain absolutely still and not react to his touch...and then I noticed him glance up at me as if he was trying to see what I would do.

I gently pushed back against his knee, so subtlely, that it was just as if I'd shifted a little.

Then he got the magazine off the floor...

and went right back to reading it.

I glanced at him. _He did that on purpose..._

_What did he mean by that?_

I paused, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

_What should I do? Why isn't he saying anything?_

I slowly finished my milk and got up to wash out the glass. I don't know if he was watching me, but I felt like he was, the whole time I was washing the glass. Still, every time I glanced back at him, he just seemed to be reading a magazine and drinking a half-glass of milk.

Maybe I was being too paranoid. Maybe he wasn't actually watching me, and I just thought he was. I sighed and hung my head, rubbing the back of my neck. Boy, this was just becoming too much work.

Suddenly, his voice came from right beside me and I jumped.

"Hey—Mike, are you ok?" He was looking up at me with that adorable concerned look again, damn it.

"Yeah, Marco, I'm fine, just tired, that's all."

"You didn't sleep well last night, did you?" he said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"No, I...I didn't," I said. Jeez, all he was doing was standing there with his hand on my shoulder, but it was making me hotter than Arizona in July...

"Mike," he said. "You're flushed again. Come here and sit down."

I nodded. _I'll do anything you say, babe._

He led me to the table and sat me down, examining my face. "Gosh, Mike, you look like you have a fever. Here..." He went and got me a glass of water then felt my forehead. I still can't believe it, but I just sat there, like I was watching the whole thing from a distance. I couldn't do anything; his touch was enough to render me completely useless. Inwardly, I kicked myself. I wished I could control the way I reacted to him, but there are some things that are just out of your control.

"I'll be right back, I'm gonna go get Johnny or Roy," he said after a second, rushing out of the room.

"No, Marco it's fine! I'm okay!" I called after him. _I know what's wrong with me, Marco, it's that I can't get over how goddamned sexy you are!_

Unfortunately—or fortunately, I don't know—he didn't hear me, and he came back with Roy a second later.

Roy checked my pulse and furrowed his brows.

"Can I get a blood pressure?"

_No._ "Sure," I said, reluctantly putting out my arm. "But I think I'm ok."

Roy put the cuff over my arm and started inflating it.

Suddenly, the Cap poked his head into the room, holding a paper in his hands.

"Hey, Marco, can I ask you something about this part on your report about the garbage fire?"

"Yeah, cap, what is it?" He followed the cap out of the room, but I noticed him glance back at me. My heart rate must have jumped or something, because Roy furrowed his brows and inflated the cuff one more time.

"135 over 90...are you sure you're ok, Mike? Have you been under any stress lately?"

_Ugh, you have no idea._ "No, not that I know of..." I lied.

Roy gave me a look and lowered his voice. "Come on, Mike. From what Johnny says, this has been going on all day. What's wrong? Does this have something to do with Marco?"

_Damn that DeSoto and his perceptiveness..._ "Uh, why should it?" I asked, just knowing I'd turned red.

Roy shook his head. "Alright, out with it, Mike. Off the record. What's going on?"

I stared at him. I didn't know what to say. How do you just tell your co-worker, "Oh yeah, well, I'm fine. It's just that Marco is a sexy beast and he's making me slowly lose my mind"? No!

He looked at me expectantly. "It does have to do with him, doesn't it?" he said. It was more of a statement than a question.

I slowly nodded. _Welp, that's it. I've got to transfer out now._

Roy looked down at the floor like he'd figured it all out. "What happened?"

I stared at him. I couldn't make my mouth move.

Roy sighed. "Mike, you're showing all the signs of either a panic attack, or...sexual attraction. Now, it's gotta be either of those, so which is it?"

I looked down at the floor. Yup. I was gonna have to go.

"Was I being that obvious?" I whispered.

"Yeah," Roy whispered back. "You find Marco attractive?"

I slowly nodded. _Might as well start packing my things up now._

Roy nodded. "I understand," he said.

"What?" I said, surprised at his answer.

He nodded. "Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of," he said. "Unfortunately it's not so widely accepted in our profession."

"Wait, are you...well...?" I whispered, not really wanting to say it aloud.

"I'm supportive," he said cryptically.

I looked down at the floor, feeling confused. Well, maybe I didn't have to transfer out...

"What happened?" Roy asked again.

I sighed and glanced at the door to make sure nobody was watching.

"Remember when Marco slipped in the mud earlier?" I began.

Roy nodded.

"Well...the cap suggested that he take a shower, so I got him a bag for his dirty uniform, and...when I came back into the room, he had his shirt off...and he was really...you know...but it's been going on for longer, 'cos I've been spending so much time with him, and he hugged me the other night, and I just...I wanted..." I stopped, shaking my head, and I was sure I turned redder than I already was.

Roy nodded sympathetically. I nodded too and shut my mouth.

"I understand," Roy said.

I hung my head. "But...I don't have any way to act on my feelings...Marco would never—"

I stopped short when I heard Marco thanking Cap and walking out of the office.

"Never say never," Roy said as Marco came back into the room. He picked up the blood pressure cuff and walked out of the room.

Marco took the seat Roy had been in and looked at me.

"You feeling better?" he asked, that same adorable concerned look on his face.

I smiled at him. "I'm fine Marco," I said.

My smile seemed to relieve him, and he smiled back. "Did you figure out what it was?"

I shook my head. "My blood pressure's just a little high, that's all."

He looked concerned again and was about to say something, but the call alarm interrupted him.

"Station 51, Station 110, Truck 8, Battalion 14, structure fire. 12294 Frances avenue. 1-2-2-9-4 Frances avenue. Cross street Belmont. Time out, 19:16."

We jumped up and ran to the engine, pulling out onto the rainy streets moments later.

-%-

The building was already fully involved when we got there. It took five hours just to get the damn thing under control, and another two to search the building for hotspots.

By the time we got back to the station, all we wanted to do was sleep.

Johnny and Roy stopped to get a burger coming back from Rampart, but the engine crew skipped dinner and headed straight for the sack.

I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. Nothing like a four-alarm structure fire to put me straight to sleep. But I was still the first one to wake up the next morning.

I got up quietly, trying not to wake anyone up, and went into the kitchen to make the coffee. When it was done, I sat down with a cup to think about everything that had happened these past few days.

It had all made sense in the beginning...when 'normal' was still the same. But now...that 'normal' had changed so much...I just didn't know where to go from there.

In fact, normal had seemed take a 180 from where it had been heading before. Just a week ago, I was going to bars with Marco, watching soccer on their TVs, helping him try to pick up girls, going home and sleeping like a baby. Now? Marco's father had told me to take care of his son on his deathbed, Marco and I started spending every second together, and now I seemed to have a crush on Marco. A big one.

I sighed and took a sip of my coffee, thinking about Marco's father. The first time I'd met him was the last time I'd ever see him, and yet he trusted _me_ to take care of his son. It was a weird thought. Maybe I was reading too much into it? Maybe all he meant was for me to be the friend Marco needed. Surely he wasn't implying that Marco couldn't take care of himself and needed someone to do it for him. I knew better than that. But...Marco's father knew he'd need someone to lean on...what still puzzled me was why did it have to be me? It wasn't like I was the best for the job, given the condition I was in...But Marco had still turned to me for comfort. What was so special about me, I wondered? I barely even talked to him when he first started out here. Yes, I barely talked to _anyone_ when he first started out, and we'd grown closer as friends these past two years, but we still really didn't know all that much about each other. I think we'd only grown so close...maybe, because he'd given me the benefit of the doubt. Before we all came to station 51...I was even more quiet than I am now. I never said anything unless I was asked to, and I usually isolated myself from the group. But...Marco had made it a point to talk to me. And he was nice to me, even if all I could give him was a non-verbal response.

He was the one who had made us friends.

I suddenly wondered...what he needed from me...what he wanted.

I looked down and sighed. I could almost guarantee that he didn't want what I wanted. What he seemed to need was a friend. But, you know? I was content to give that to him. Even if it meant that there was nothing I could do about the fact that seeing him with no shirt on would slowly drive me crazy.

I sighed again and sipped my coffee, watching the minutes tick by...and thinking about my own father...

Suddenly, I heard a noise behind me, and when I turned to look, I saw Marco walk in. His appearance made me smile: his hair was tousled from the pillow, and he still had sleep in his dark brown eyes. He smiled back at me as he walked over to get a cup of coffee, then sat down next to me at the table.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asked, yawning. "Couldn't sleep?"

He made me smile. "No, I slept alright," I said. "How about you?"

He nodded and yawned again. "I slept pretty good. That structure fire wiped me out."

"Yeah, me too..." I couldn't stop glancing up at this little tuft of his hair that was sticking straight up in the front...I was trying not to laugh at it, but I couldn't help myself.

"What?" he asked, looking up and trying to see what it was that had me giggling.

"Your hair, Marco..." I reached up and smoothed it down. "It was..." I looked down to meet his eyes, staring at me like he was curious about something. "It was sticking up..." I said, my smile fading. "What?"

"What what?" Marco said, looking at me like I was an interesting painting.

I couldn't help it...the way he was looking at me...I started to blush again.

He looked a bit concerned. "Did you ever figure out what was causing this?" he said, reaching for my face and gently resting the back of his hand on my forehead.

It was just a simple touch, but I revelled in it. "N-no..." I said.

He shook his head. "You feel hot, Mike," he said, feeling the rest of my face. I was so distracted by the feel of his rough hands on my face that I almost didn't hear him say, "Maybe you're coming down with something."

I looked up at him as he stood up. "Oh, no, Marco, I think I'm ok! I've just been drinking coffee—"

He shook his head. "Better safe than sorry!" he said. "Wait right here, I'm going to go get the thermometer and take your temperature!"

He rushed off to the locker room, and I sighed. _Damn it, Marco, why do you have to be so adorable? I'm the one who's supposed to be taking care of you_! I smiled and waited for him to come back.

Damn, I was in trouble. He was already driving me crazy! At this rate, I'd be insane by the end of the shift...and to top it all, I couldn't stop smiling.

It was like I couldn't control my own face. Every time I tried to stop smiling, I'd just laugh and smile again. Maybe I was already insane...but whatever it was, it felt good.

Thankfully, I managed to regain control of my face by the time he'd gotten back with the thermometer. He took my temperature and looked at it.

"99.5..." he said. "Mike, that's a low-grade fever..."

"Marco, I'm drinking boiling-hot coffee, that might have something to do with it—"

"Yeah, but Mike, you weren't drinking coffee yesterday when it happened!"

I nodded, "Yeah, that's true, but nobody took my temperature then, did they? I bet my temperature right now has to do with the coffee."

He eyed me warily. "Then how do you explain your high blood pressure and flushing yesterday? Don't you think the symptoms would be the same?"

"Marco, I'm fine!" I said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Are you sure?" He asked me, giving me that adorable concerned look. He actually looked very worried...and I suddenly understood. He hadn't gotten the chance to take care of his father when he'd gotten sick, because he'd hid it; denied it. And here I was denying the possibility that I was sick, too. I looked into his eyes and squeezed his shoulder.

"I promise you, Marco. I'm alright. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not trying to push you away, ok?"

I saw it in his eyes as he realised what he'd been doing. He looked surprised, and closed his eyes for a moment. He blinked and a few tears fell down his cheeks. How I hated seeing that look on his face. I pulled him close to me and held him for a minute, listening to his breathing hitch, then slowly get deeper and clearer.

When we broke our embrace, he wiped a hand over his eyes and took another breath. He looked up at me. "Thank you, Mike," he whispered, looking back down at the floor again. Then he looked back up and smiled at me, "You're sure you're alright?"

I smiled back. "Positive," I said, squeezing his shoulder again.

He laughed a little. "Good," he said. "Damn, I'm tired of crying!"

I nodded. "I know the feeling."

He looked back up at me and nodded.

Suddenly, we heard something at the door. We looked up, and noticed it was Cap clearing his throat as he walked into the room.

"I hope I'm not intruding on anything," he said, looking at Marco.

Marco shook his head. "No," he said. "Mike told you, right? About my father?"

The captain nodded sombrely.

Marco nodded too.

The captain got a cup of coffee and sat down.

-%-

We talked about Marco's father for a good half-hour. Marco told the cap some of the stories about his father that he'd told me, but he didn't go into as much detail he had a few days ago. Then, he talked about how it happened; how his father had died. The captain nodded in sympathy.

"I felt the same way when my grandfather died," he said. "He was like a father to me."

They shared their sympathies, and I mostly remained quiet, just listening to the two of them talk. It was comforting to know that Marco had so much support at the station.

Then for some reason, the conversation veered to me.

"Mike has been really helpful these past few days," Marco said, looking at me fondly. I smiled, hoping I wouldn't flush again.

Roy walked in right then, and, to be honest, I was a little glad to have a distraction from Marco's beautiful brown eyes.

"Good morning," Roy said, pouring himself a cup of coffee and coming to sit at the table.

"Good morning, Roy," we all responded.

"How'd you sleep?" The Cap asked.

Roy nodded as he yawned. "Fantastic," he said.

Then Johnny walked in, looking ragged like he'd slept pretty hard, and the first thing out of his mouth was, "Who's makin' breakfast?"

We all laughed.


	3. Chapter 3

EMERGENCY!- UNEXPECTED

Written by: George Glisson

_Emergency! And all of its characters belong to Mark VII and universal pictures. No copyright infringement intended._

_(MATURE CONTENT WARNING)_

-%-THREE-%-

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. Well, sure, we had our share of calls, but they were all pretty tame. In fact, I had slowly started to recover from Marco's charms...well, that is, until late that evening.

We were all sitting around watching the late movie—that night, it was Dracula—and eating popcorn. We'd had the good sense to make more than one bowl this time, and Marco and I found ourselves sharing one.

I wasn't really watching the movie; in fact, I couldn't really tell you now if Bela Lugosi did a good job or not...I was too distracted by Marco. It was hard not to laugh at him, engrossed in the movie, shoveling popcorn into his mouth...

He wasn't even looking down to see what he was grabbing.

Which was my mistake too. The one time I decided to pay attention to the movie, I had my hand in the popcorn bowl, and so did he...

I suddenly felt his hand close over mine.

He immediately let go and apologised the second he noticed, but...the deed had been done. My face was hot.

"It's ok," I lied.

I was really glad it was dark and that everyone was watching the movie so intently. I gave him the popcorn bowl and excused myself.

I walked into the locker room and splashed some water on my face...but it just brought back the memory of Marco yesterday...standing at the same sink, washing the mud off his face...his muscles flexing and relaxing under his smooth skin...

I shut my eyes. Just what I'd been afraid of was starting to happen. My body had started to respond to all the images running around in my head. I sighed.

"Gimme a break..." I told my body. But it wasn't listening.

I hung my head and walked over to the bathroom, sitting down and shutting the door.

-%-

"Mike?"

I was startled when I heard the soft knock on the door.

"Yeah?" I replied, quickly making myself presentable.

"Are...you ok?"

I opened the door to find Marco standing there. He seemed relieved that I didn't look sick or anything, but he still looked a bit worried.

I turned bright red when I saw him. Thank goodness it was dark.

"I'm fine, Marco," I lied (Man, I seemed to be doing a lot of that lately).

Marco nodded, then looked at me as if he were thinking about asking me something. "Mike, are you...?"

He paused. My heart felt like it was about to jump out of my chest. Had he finally caught onto me?

I saw his eyes drop to the floor and he shook his head.

"Never mind." He turned to walk out of the room.

I don't know what possessed me to do it...but I stopped him. Maybe I just wanted to get this all out into the open because I hate lying, but I wasn't sure if that was really it.

"Wait, Marco," I said, putting a hand on his arm. "What is it?"

He took a breath and turned around, looking up at me.

"Are you...?" He paused as if he couldn't get the words out. That wasn't helping my heart rate at all.

"Mike, are you...angry with me?"

I was just about floored.

"No! No, why would I be angry with you?"

Marco looked at the floor. "Well, I'm sorry that I touched your hand just now...and that I've been leaning on you so hard."

"That's ok, Marco! I want to be there for you! And I don't care about the hand thing..."

"Then why did you get up and leave right after it happened?" He looked up at me, a little resentful. "Mike, I don't know what's going on with you, but it's confusing me!"

I closed my eyes. That was it, it had to come out, for better or worse. I was tired of hiding it. I was tired of lying.

"Marco, believe me, I'm just as confused as you are," I said.

"I thought I was leaning too hard..." Marco said, then looked up at me. "You'd tell me if you needed a break from me, right?"

A break from him? That was the _last_ thing I wanted!

"Marco—"

"You'd tell me anything, wouldn't you?"

I looked right into his eyes. How could I tell him? How could I risk all the happiness he'd brought to me over the years? How could I risk my deepest friendship?

"Yes," I said simply.

"Then why do I get the feeling that you're hiding something from me?"

"Marco—"

"I mean, was it something I said or did—?"

"Marco, you have done nothing to hurt me," I said. Oh god, here it comes. I'll _have_ to transfer out now. "You have been the best friend I've had for a very long time. I promise you, I'm not trying to hide anything from you, I'm just...trying to understand my own feelings."

He looked at me, his expression unreadable. "Your own...feelings?"

Suddenly, the captain poked his head into the locker room, making us both jump.

"Lights out, guys, the movie's over."

He looked at us for a second. "What are you two doing hanging out in the dark?"

Chet squeezed past the captain and turned on the light, making us all blink to adjust. "They're doing voodoo magic or something, Cap. We'd better leave them alone, or they'll turn us into pin-cushions."

Marco and I gave Chet a look.

"Yeah, whatever Chet, just brush your teeth," Johnny said as he and Roy came into the room.

"You're not the boss of me, Gage," Chet said, sticking his tongue out at Johnny.

"Yeah, but _he_ is," Johnny said, pointing to the cap.

I saw cap roll his eyes. "Ohh no, don't you two drag _me_ into this! I'm too old to be babysitting 20-year olds." He walked out of the room, shaking his head.

I took a breath and walked over to a sink to brush my own teeth.

Marco just stood there for a while. I could tell that he was trying to come to terms with what I had said, but I wasn't sure if he'd understood the meaning. He slowly got ready for bed, and I could feel it—hanging thick in the air—that our conversation wasn't over. It felt like it made it harder for me to breathe, and I knew I'd have trouble sleeping that night.

If he understood me, would he hate me? Or did I have even a slim a chance with him? My shoulders sagged. Probably not.

I just hoped that I wouldn't have to put in for a transfer first thing in the morning.

That is, if I still had a head in the morning.

-%-

"STATION 51, CHEST PAIN. 9551 FISCHER AVE. 9-5-5-1 FISCHER AVE. CROSS STREET VERMONT. TIME OUT, 00:20. PD ADVISES GUARD DOG ON SCENE. USE CAUTION."

My eyes flew open. My feet seemed to find their way into my boots on their own, and I was in the engine before I knew it.

We pulled out onto the street and I followed the squad to Vermont blvd. It might've been a very good thing I was following the squad out of habit, because when I truly realised where I was, we were halfway to the scene. I glanced over at the cap, his tired eyes on the road ahead, and focused on following the squad.

When we got to the house, we pulled up behind a police car and an animal control vehicle near a big gate. We could hear the guard dog barking as cap walked up to the police officer.

"We have anybody inside that can restrain the dog?"

The officer shook his head. "Nope, that's why we got all you guys out of bed. The lady barely had enough strength to call us, much less take care of that unruly dog of hers. He's bein' awful protective of her."

"Yeah, and with him being behind that door," the animal control officer said, "I can't get a clear tranq shot at him."

The dog was at the front porch barking at us from behind the screen door...and he was a _big_ dog. From what I could see of him, he looked part-Rott-Weiler-part-German-shepherd-part-wolf. We could hear the lady in the house calling his name trying to stop him from barking.

"Barney! Barnard! Please! Quit it!" She kept yelling.

By the way she sounded, we could tell she was incredibly short of breath.

"Here's what I was thinkin'," the officer said. "There's only one of him, and six of us. If we can distract him long enough, your boys could get in and we could get 'im with the tranq gun."

"Sounds simple enough," the cap said. "Marco, go grab a couple of fire blankets off the engine as a backup. Johnny? Roy? While we distract him, you run through the door and shut it, quick."

"Right, cap."

Marco ran back with the fire blankets and handed one to me, one to Chet, and one to the Cap, who quietly opened the gate and slowly started walking up to the house.

"Boy I hope this works," I heard him mutter under his breath.

We all followed behind him, Johnny and Roy bringing up the rear with the biophone and the cardiac equipment.

The dog was baring his teeth and growling as we approached, seeming to ignore his master's meek attempts at calling him.

"Alright, I'm going to try to go open the door, then officer McCrary is going to try to distract him, and I want Mike, Chet and Marco making little noises to confuse him," the captain whispered, handing the fire blanket to the officer. "Johnny, Roy, you come up the side, and once he's clear of the door, that'll be your chance to run for it. If he's too fast, we'll run back to the gate and regroup."

"Got it, cap."

Our brave captain swallowed hard as he approached the screen door and the snarling dog, who suddenly jumped up and put his front paws on the screen door, barking and growling. The Cap backed up a little and swallowed again. This dog had to be at least 6 foot tall on his hind legs. He looked like he could've originated the legend of the werewolf. The name Barney just didn't seem to fit.

The cap took a deep breath and lunged for the door, swinging it open and thanking the powers that be that it opened outwards.

Then, all hell broke loose.

It all happened so fast that it's hard for me to remember exactly what happened, but I remember the dog running after officer McCrary first, like he was supposed to. Then the tranq gun went off, and I heard the animal control officer curse. He must have missed. I don't know how it happened, but I must have caught the dog's eye...because after that, that dog and all his snarling, barking fury were headed straight for me.

I'll admit, I ran for all I was worth. Unfortunately, I was almost to the gate when I tripped on a root or something that was sticking up in the tall grass. I heard the tranq gun go off again, and I remember falling into the foetal position praying to god or whoever was up there that the animal control officer hadn't missed that time.

He didn't. I heard him cheer. But I didn't move. I'll be the first to admit that I was too scared. That dog charging at me like that was the stuff of nightmares. I can handle a brush fire or a structure fire no problem, but that dog was just a bit too much.

I heard some people run over to me, calling my name.

"Mike! Mike are you alright?" Marco had the loudest voice, and he sounded very worried about me. I was about to move when I felt his hand on my back.

I have to say, that was the most soothing thing I had ever felt in my life, just knowing he was there behind me.

"Mike, it's all over, the dog's asleep! Are you ok?" Marco sounded so worried that he was talking a mile a minute.

"I'm ok, Marco, I'm ok," I said, rolling over and looking up at the four people standing over me. Marco was kneeling by me looking incredibly concerned. I just wanted to hug him.

"I'm alright," I said again, getting up. "I can walk."

"You gave us a bit of a scare there, pal," Cap said, patting my shoulder.

"Sorry, Cap," I said. "So did the dog."

Marco hovered near me the rest of the time we were there, and I wondered if maybe he hadn't understood what I'd said in the locker room just a few hours prior...or if maybe he had? But I figured I shouldn't read too much into his actions. He was probably just worried about his friend being hurt, and that's probably all it was.

-%-

We all awoke the next morning at 0200 to a four-hour-long electrical fire in a residential area. Of course, we all felt like it was noon by the time we were finished, and after we'd all trudged back into the dayroom and sat for a while, I reluctantly got up to make the coffee.

When I looked up at the clock and realised it was only 0600, I sighed and sat down with my coffee. The others eventually got up and poured themselves a cup, too. Except Chet, of course, who was snoring in the chair by the bulletin board.

When 0700 rolled around, the captain had us start on some things before B shift got there. I started sweeping the locker rooms, Marco put away the dishes that were in the drainer from the day before, and Johnny and Roy changed the linens in the dorm. After the captain finally got Chet to wake up, he had him do a quick mop up in the apparatus bay.

I was almost done sweeping up the locker room when I heard the door open. I looked up to see Marco walking up to me, looking like he was thinking hard about something.

"Hey Mike, you got a second?" he said, leaning against the door to the shower.

"Yeah, what's up?" I asked, curious as to what he'd have to say to me after yesterday.

He hesitated, still looking down at the floor as if he was thinking hard. "I was just wondering something about today..."

He looked up at me as he finished, and there was something in his eyes that I couldn't quite place.

"Okay," I said, starting to get a little concerned. "What did you need?"

He kept his eyes on me. "Would you bring the beer?"

I was a little relieved at his answer. At least I was still allowed in his house. I still couldn't decide what that look was...but whatever it was, I couldn't look away from him.

"Sure...what kind of beer do you like?" I asked. I knew exactly what he'd say, but I wanted to keep the conversation going as long as I could so I could figure out what was going on...and if we were on the same page.

He looked away for a second. "Oh, you know, Dos Equiis...Michelob...Corona's alright. I don't really care for Budweiser. What do you have at your place?" He looked back up at me...God, what I couldn't figure out was...what _was_ that look in his eyes?

"I...have Kirkcaldy...a pretty good milk stout from that brewery on 110th...and then there's always Guinness..." I hesitated. "And I won't be caught dead with a case of Budweiser. I like the...darker ales."

"Really?" he said, his eyes glinting; a small smile curling the corners of his mouth. "I prefer the pale ones."

That was the moment I realised it...I don't think he was talking about beer at all. I was sure he was talking about...me. I must have turned bright red, because I remember my ears were burning so hot, I felt like I was working a line in a structure fire. I fought back a smile and tried to continue the conversation. I kept my eyes on the floor as I continued sweeping.

"Well, in that case, I guess I could...pick up some Michelob for you on the way home..."

"No, it's alright..." he said, pretending not to notice how red I was (or maybe he actually didn't, I don't know). "Just bring your favourites. Thanks Mike."

...and just like that...he walked away!

I had to sit down. I was pretty sure that Marco had just made a pass at me! Hadn't he? Or was I just going crazy? No...I swear that look he was giving me was a hungry look...but...oh hell, it just seemed too good to be true.

Suddenly, I couldn't wait to get to Marco's apartment. 0800 just couldn't come soon enough.

-%-

When 0800 finally did come, I was the first one out to my car. My head was still reeling from what had happened earlier, and I was still trying to decide whether Marco _had_ made a pass at me or not. Deep down, I had a feeling that I was just getting excited over nothing. I was pretty sure Marco had no interest in me whatsoever...but...part of me held on to a glimmer of hope that maybe...maybe I was right this time.

I couldn't shake the feeling, and I whistled as I walked into my house to get the beer. I was feeling better than I had in a long time, and as I passed by the mirror on my bedroom door, I stopped for a moment to fix my hair. Yeah, maybe I was reading all the wrong signals...and maybe Marco didn't want me like I wanted him, but I wasn't going to let that ruin my mood. I felt like someone had switched on a light in my life after it had been dark for a really long time. So I felt like I had to hold out hope...just to see. And even if Marco rejected me romantically...I knew he wouldn't reject me as a friend.

-%-

I finally found myself carrying two cases of beer up the stairs to Marco's apartment, feeling like my heart was going to pound out of my chest. I was so nervous; I didn't know what to expect that day. Either it would be life changing, or just another day with a great friend. I wanted to know how it would turn out...and waiting for his door to open was like waiting to find out the ending of a book series.

Finally the door opened and Marco appeared wearing his Vera Cruz jersey.

"Hey, Mike! Come in! How are you?" he said, stepping aside and letting me by.

"I'm good," I said. "How about you?"

"I'm feeling really good about a Vera Cruz victory today, Mike," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Your team better watch out."

I couldn't help laughing at him a bit. I loved to see him getting so caught up in the matches, and it helped to calm my nerves.

"Sure, Marco, whatever you say..." I said, laughing. "Anyway, I bought you something."

I set the case of Michelob out on the counter where he could see it and grabbed myself a Guinness from the other case.

He smiled at me, his voice suddenly becoming a little softer. "Aw, Mike, you didn't have to do that..."

"Yes I did," I said, sending him a sly glance. "That way, at least, you'll feel better about Manchester winning."

He laughed and grabbed himself one. "I appreciate that, Mike, but I think you're going to be disappointed."

"Ok Marco," I said, sitting down on the couch in front of his TV set. "But we'll see who's disappointed after the match."

-%-

The match started off really well for Marco. He was right, Vera Cruz's offence was really aggressive, but fortunately for me, Manchester has an excellent defence. After Vera Cruz scored a few goals, Manchester started to catch on to their style, and the match started to even out a little.

Marco was sitting next to me on the couch, so engrossed in the match, that he acted like he was actually in the bleachers. I wondered how much his cats hated him at the moment. He would jump up and cheer every time Vera Cruz made a goal, and yell at his team every time Manchester made a goal. After a few beers, it started to get louder and more boisterous. It was hard not to laugh at him.

That's where Marco and I are different when we watch sports, I guess. We must have been quite a pair: him jumping up and down, spilling his beer everywhere, and me, sitting next to him, quietly sipping my beer, only quietly cheering when my team made a goal...

I liked it this way.

I liked watching him. This was something he truly enjoyed with all his heart, and sitting back to watch him was just as entertaining as watching the match. I'd come to know that Marco was a passionate man. Passionate about what he did, what he liked, and who he cared about. I found myself sighing, watching him jump up and down cheering for the goals as if he was a member of the team too. It just felt so...right to me.

And I suddenly realised that I'd already fallen for him. It was beyond the attraction stage. Beyond the crush stage.

I was in love with Marco Lopéz.

And no matter what that meant, I knew I would have to accept it.

I had no choice.

I sipped my beer, watching him do victory dances for each goal, chuckling at him. He sure was cute when he was buzzed.

I guess I was a little buzzed too. I looked down and realised that I'd already had two beers.

It didn't matter much to me. I was in a safe environment. Marco had already had four (of course, he'd spilt most of the first and second ones), and it was starting to show.

I realised that I'd stopped watching the match altogether because he was so entertaining. Not to mention sexy. Maybe it was the beer, but he just looked like a god...his thick arms and his big chest holding that jersey tight...loose shorts that still gave me a little idea of what was underneath them..._Mmmhmm, I like that..._I smiled as I watched him.

I must have been really flushed, because he suddenly looked down at me and furrowed his brows.

"Hey, Mike, are ok? You're all red again!"

"Am I?" I sighed absent-mindedly.

"Yes," he said, feeling my face. My heart fluttered when he touched me. "And you feel really hot, too...Hold on, let me go get a wet cloth for you!"

"No, Marco, it's ok...Don't worry about it...Marco.." I called after him, but it was useless. He'd already passed out of earshot. _Oh, Marco, just when I thought I couldn't fall harder for you, you drop everything to take care of me..._I thought.

He came back in a second with the cloth, gently leaning me back on the couch and placing the cloth on my forehead. I found myself obeying his every touch. I couldn't help myself. He acted as if he'd completely forgotten about the match as he rubbed the cloth over my face, and it felt so good, I could only half-heartedly bring myself to protest.

"But...Marco, don't you want to watch the rest of this match?" I said, not even making an attempt to move his hands from my face. "Marco, I'm ok, really..."

"_No_ you're not ok, Mike, you don't _look_ ok..." he said softly, moving the cloth down and slowly rubbing my neck with it. "I'll get back to the match...Just...let me get you cooled off first..."

"Ok..." It felt so sensual, I had to try not to moan! _My__ god, Marco, you're going to be the death of me..._ I thought. A red flag was going up somewhere in the back my mind and I knew I wouldn't be able to stop my body from responding to this...but for some reason, I couldn't move. I didn't want to.

I was only vaguely aware of him unbuttoning the first button on my shirt...and I felt the cool cloth slip down to the spot he'd just revealed. A shiver shot down my spine. I closed my eyes. I never wanted this to end.

"Mike, you're really warm..." I heard him say.

I tried to answer, but all that came out was a little moan. Before I knew it, he had my whole shirt unbuttoned and I felt that cloth slide down my chest towards my navel. _Ooh...that feels good..._I was starting to get hard. _I must be dreaming_, I thought. _This is too good to be true_. I sighed, waiting to wake up at the station to find out that it had all been a dream. All of it. Maybe all this had never even happened...

I shuddered as he slowly moved the cloth over one of my nipples. Then again, maybe it all _had _happened. Maybe Marco had planned this whole day just to seduce me...

Then again, maybe he was just wondering why I was enjoying this so much.

I heard his voice; he was saying something to me, but it sounded far off, like I was in a different room.

"Hmm?" I said, inwardly kicking myself for letting my voice sound so breathy.

"Does this feel nice?"

I didn't think I heard him right, so it took me a while to register what he'd said. Finally, he repeated himself.

"Mike, does this feel nice?"

"Yes," I responded with a sharp intake of breath, feeling the cloth slide back up over one of my nipples to my neck. "Mmmfeels wonderful..."

"Good...I'm glad to hear that." His voice was soft and low.

He brought the cloth back down the middle of my chest and rubbed it on my stomach, then I felt my shirt slipping off my shoulders.

"Are you feeling a little better now?" he asked, his voice deep and gravelly and inches from my ear.

"Yes..." I moaned. I couldn't help it. He was so close, I could smell his shampoo and the hint of the beer he'd been drinking. It made my cock ache, thinking about him standing over me, rubbing a cloth over my naked chest, whispering to me; I squirmed a little.

He slid the cloth back up my chest and rubbed it along my collar-bone, then brought it back to my neck. I felt him sit next to me and he started rubbing the cloth up one side of my face, turning me towards him. Then I felt him slide the cloth over my eyes and leave it there.

"What—?" I started to ask, but I suddenly felt something soft and prickly touch my lips...there was a faint taste of Michelob...and I suddenly realised that he was kissing me.

I moaned and tried to move my arms around him, but he stopped me.

"Wait, Mike," he whispered, gently pushing my arms back down to the couch. "I'm not done. Leave the cloth where it is."

Ok, I was _sure_ I was dreaming now. I hoped I wasn't making any funny noises, but even if I was, I wanted to live this dream to the very end. It was too good to pass up. I silently prayed that the call alarm wouldn't ring in the middle of it, because I intended to enjoy every last second of it.

I mean...it had to be a dream...Right? I wouldn't hear the sound of my zipper coming down in the middle of Marco's living room in real life? Would I?

"You're so hard," I heard him whisper.

Yup. Definitely a dream.

I moaned and bucked my hips up. I felt his hot breath on my crotch, then his hands were on me, rubbing me thought the fabric of my boxer shorts.

I moaned louder. "Marco..." I breathed.

"Shhh," he said softly, continuing to rub me. I moved my hands up to help, but he stopped me. "Let me do this."

"Marco, I'm gonna—" I started to say, but I couldn't get the rest out because a moan got in the way.

"Shhh," he repeated. I felt his warm hands dip into my underwear and grip me around the base.

"Mmmm..." I moaned, trying my best to be quiet.

He pulled me out and started stroking me, keeping one hand firmly around the base of my cock. I wanted to cum...needed to. But he wouldn't let me.

"Marco!" I moaned, making no effort to be quiet this time.

"Shhh..." He repeated. "Shhhh..."

My toes curled. My whole body felt like it was on fire.

"Oh God, Marco, please..." I moaned, a little quieter this time.

He didn't answer. His skilled hands continued to work on me until I was sure I was going to explode. He upped the pace, and I almost moaned really loud, but he anticipated it and kissed me quiet. Finally, he let go of the base of my cock and I tensed up, moaning into his mouth as I felt the intense release of finally being able to cum. It felt so real...I expected to wake up with a stain in my underwear.

He stroked me a few more times and took the cloth off of my eyes, looking into them intently. He looked blurry in the light, but as my eyes readjusted, I was staring back into his gorgeous face. I smiled, and he smiled back.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked in that low, sexy voice of his.

"Yes, but..." I began. He furrowed his brows, a concerned look coming over him. "I want more," I finished, bringing that warm smile back to his face.

He kissed me and started taking off his shirt, smiling at me all the while.

I closed my eyes and smiled again as he started kissing my neck, his moustache tickling me. Man, this was the most realistic dream I'd ever had! I could feel every one of his moustache hairs on my skin.

"Marco..." I laughed.

He laughed a little too and picked up the cloth, rubbing it slowly up and down my shaft. I whimpered when he stopped, but I looked up to see him pulling his trousers off, so I sat back and watched, wondering what he was going to do.

As he rubbed himself through his underwear, all I could think about was wanting to bury my face in his bulge...and my body started moving...like it was moving on its own and I was just along for the ride. I found my face inches from his crotch, and I rubbed my nose against his bulge. I inhaled his musky scent, and all rational thought seemed to fly out the window. I hoped he smelled this good in real life...

I rubbed my face on him, breathing hot air into the cotton of his underwear. He was making little moaning noises that sent throbbing aches down to my cock, making me want to rub myself. I suddenly found myself using my teeth to pull the flap of his underwear back, and my hand to coax his cock out. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to suck on him...show him that I wanted him. I felt the tip of his cock graze my lips and I took it into my mouth, tasting all that I could. He tasted so good...

He whimpered and I sucked harder.

"Uhnn, Mike...yes," he hissed.

I took him into my throat, moaning as I rubbed myself.

"Oh, Mike..." his breathing was hard and loud above me.

He bucked his hips, thrusting into my mouth as I sucked on him, pulling him in and out of my mouth. He groaned loudly and tried to continue thrusting into my mouth, but I held his hips steady and he stopped. I pulled him in and out of my throat on my own and started playing with his balls.

"MIKE!" he moaned, his legs starting to shake.

I brought my mouth up and down on his throbbing cock a few more times, feeling his muscles tense up. He shouted my name, and a few seconds later, I felt his warm liquid shooting down my throat. I moaned and swallowed it all. The sensation was so real...I was starting to wonder whether this really was a dream, or if all my dreams had finally come true.

He groaned and sat down next to me, grabbing my face and pulling me into a deep, hot kiss. His tongue demanded entry and I opened my mouth to him. He was ravenous as he explored my mouth, licking every inch of my tongue as I struggled to keep up with him.

His hands were on my legs, moving directly for my butt, squeezing and rubbing all the way there. He released my mouth and started kissing down my neck, sucking on a spot just below the collar-line, then moving on to my hard nipples.

"Mmmarrco..."

I couldn't think at all. His touches were like fire and his kisses like lightning...he was exploring my body with his hands and his mouth with an intent to claim it for his own.

Oh how I wished that this wasn't a dream! But how could it be real? I never thought Marco would ever kiss me sweetly, part my legs and touch my most private area...preparing me for marking...preparing me to be his forever.

And yet as I lay there, feeling the pain and the pleasure as he thrust himself into me, I couldn't help but wonder...

How could a dream feel so real?

"MARCO!"

It's all a blur to me now...

I remember the squeaking sound of the couch complaining under our weight...his skin slapping against mine...

"MIKE! OH GOD, MIKE!"

The sweet ecstasy as he hit that spot that sent me to the stars...

"MIKE!"

Continuously...

"MARCO! YES!"

And it was like I couldn't breathe, but I didn't care. I wanted him so badly I couldn't stand it.

"MARCO!"

Breathing was secondary. I wanted him more...needed him more.

"OH GOD, MIKE..."

The smell of beer, the sound of our skin and his ragged breathing, the sound of my moans and yelps, the feelings he was causing deep inside me...

So good...Too much...

"MARCO!"

I couldn't hold on any longer.

"MAARRCO!"

I collapsed onto the couch. He collapsed on me a few moments later...seconds or minutes? I didn't know. Time meant nothing. My ears were ringing.

He'd just made me his.

I was so tired, I couldn't stay awake. It was so good...

Too good...

And suddenly on the TV set, I heard the end of the match as my consciousness was slipping away: Manchester had won.

And so had I.

* * *

AN: First of all, I apologise for my pisspoor knowledge of soccer...I just picked the first two team names I could think of...(same with the beer, I'm really not much of a drinker) they were really intended more as plot carriers than anything else. Secondly, even though I do like parts of these last couple of scenes (especially the "I prefer the pale ones" scene), they do feel a little rushed to me, but I've been writing this fanfic for two years now, so I've decided that now is the time to end it. There will probably be one more chapter, and it might be short, but I hope that at least it was fun to read. I don't know if anyone even cares about or likes this fic, but I wanted to put it out there in the hopes that someone other than me could get some enjoyment out of it. (If you're reading this, thanks for sticking with it this long at least.)


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